Awakening Rimmer
by smallthyme
Summary: Prehaps how Rimmer reacted when he 'woke up'.


Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf. Please don't sue me.

Rimmer blinked.

A buzzing sound.

No, more of a whirring sound coming from somewhere within. Just audible above the din of the Dwarf's engines. He wasn't sure where he was, but it was deserted. The whole room was coated in an unexplainable amount of dust. Even the cobwebs were coated. In fact, under closer inspection, the cobwebs had cobwebs. The room was lit only by a few dim lamps which gave it a rather eerie feeling; one Rimmer was 100% uncomfortable with. He walked slowly round the shelves piled with small black boxes, trying to locate the whirring, which seemed to follow him. Out of nowhere the huge face of the ship's computer appeared on the main screen in front of Rimmer, flooding the room with dazzling light. He leapt a full three foot in air and found himself stood in the middle of a table.

Holly watched on blankly as the hologram's eyes widened impossibly. He watched even more blankly as the hologram looked around the room, taking in the black sign reading 'Hologram projection suite', the big machine slowly rotating and the 'lamps' which were in fact small monitors playing various memories of-

'Me.' Rimmer pointed dumbly, as if seeing himself on a screen was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever come across.

'Correct.' Holly said, stifling a yawn. Why did holograms have to play the same record? 'Gosh I'm dead- how did this happen- why am I here- what is the purpose of life.' He'd thought at the beginning of the three-million year stint having a hologram around would keep him sane. But he had been wrong. In all he had tried thirty-two of the ship's crew, ranging from the captain to the psychologist. Each one of the holograms had wanted counselling and answers (except the psychologist who tried to council himself and ended up hypnotised, corrupting his own personality disk).

'Radiation leak, you're dead, I brought you back as a hologram, you can't touch anything.' Holly droned. He needed this hologram to understand and get over his death as soon as possible, the last surviving human needed a companion to keep him sane. And if his calculations were correct, this was the one. Holly watched intently as the hologram's expression's changed from shock, to confusion, to anger, to annoyance in rapid succession; a nostril flare separating each one.

'So I'm _dead?_' The hologram said angrily, as if being dead was more of a hindrance than a life changing experience. His eyes flared dangerously, curly hair refused to stick to its regulation hairstyle. All in all, he looked psychotic.

Holly was worried.

This tactic wasn't going to work. He could try to re-load the hologram, start from scratch, but he was too tired for a full system re-boot. He quickly checked the file: Arnold Judas Rimmer, 31, first technician, failed astronavigation exam- _how many times_? Holly managed to hide a laugh. He should have looked through the personality chips millennia ago instead of wasting time reading 'football-it's a funny old game' by Kevin Keegan.

'Yes, the radiation leak killed the entire crew except David Lister who was in stasis.'

'That goit survived while I, Arnold J. Rimmer, perished?'

Holly chose to ignore the holograms remark, 'And I've brought you back to keep him sane.'

'Impossible. He was never sane to begin with.'

Again Holly ignored the hologram,

'Albeit you're a hologram, and as such, being made entirely of light, cannot touch anything.' Holly materialised the Hologrammatic pamphlet 'So Now You're Dead'.

'Read this for the explanation and head for the medical bay.' And with a small static crack Holly disappeared from the screen.

Rimmer looked down at the small leaflet in his hands. He was dead. Dead as a can of spam. Deader perhaps, at least spam was once a living thing (although the spam in the canteen had certainly never been near a living animal). He was made of light. A computer simulation of what he used to be. A mere shadow of the great man he once was, destined to walk the bays of an abandoned ship for all eternity, seeking solace only in himself, a mental computer and the love child of a tramp and it's dog.

It was just _typical_.


End file.
